all in bed,
and there would be less chance of interruption.

It was a fine, clear night, and as soon as we found ourselves alone I
narrated to him, in a low voice, all that had taken place, and gave him
the contents of the letter which I had taken possession of. I then
asked him what he thought I ought to do, now that I was certain of being
the son of the captain.

"Why, Master Keene, you have done it very cleverly, that's the truth;
and that letter, which is as good as a certificate from Captain Delmar,
must be taken great care of. I hardly know where it ought to be put,
but I think the best thing will be for me to sew it in a seal-skin pouch
that I have, and then you can wear it round your neck, and next your
skin; for, as you say, you and that must never part company. But,
Master Keene, you must be silent as death about it. You have told me,
and I hope I may be trusted, but trust nobody else. As to saying or
hinting anything to the captain, you mustn't think of it; you must go on
as before, as if you knew nothing, for if he thought you had the letter
in your possession he would forget you were his son, and perhaps hate
you. He never would have been induced to acknowledge you under his own
hand as his son had he not thought that you were dead and gone, as
everybody else did; so behave just as respectful and distant as before.
It's only in some great emergency that that letter will do you any good,
and you must reserve it in case of need. If your mother is suspicious,
why, you must blind her. Your granny will swear that it was your ghost;
your mother may think otherwise, but cannot prove it; she dare not tell
the captain that she suspects you have the letter, and it will all blow
over after a cruise or two."

I agreed to follow the advice of Bob Cross, as I saw it was good, and we
parted for the night.

The next morning I went on shore to the captain, who received me, very
stiffly, with, "Mr Keene, you have had a narrow escape. How did you
get back?"

I replied, that the vessel which picked me up was bound to London and
that I had taken the coach down.

"Well, I never had an idea that we should have seen you again and I have
written to your mother, acquainting her with your loss."

"Have you, sir?" replied I; "it will make her very unhappy."

"Of course it will; but I shall write by this post, stating that you
have been so fortunately preserved."

"Thanky, sir," replied I; "have you any further orde